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"I must know if he's all right," insisted Abby, as a stranger with a briefcase approached them.

"Mr. Johannes?" asked the middle-aged man, extending out his hand in a friendly manner. "I'm Peter Goldwyn-- you engaged me as your son-in-law's defense attorney."

"Mr. Goldwyn!" exclaimed John in relief, "I'm so thankful you could make it!"

"I'm trying to tell these folks," the desk sergeant addressed the lawyer, "that visiting hours were over at three this afternoon."

"I can't help it if you guys took Jake after visiting hours!" Abby cried indignantly.

"Mrs. Murphy," requested Peter, taking her aside by the arm, "you're not going to help your husband by making the police angry. They're only doing their job, isn't that right, Officer?" he smiled, turning again to the desk sergeant. "I realize it's late," he continued in a polite voice, "but is it possible that the investigators working the case are still around to speak to us?"

"They're putting in a late-nighter," soberly nodded the officer. "There's talk of someone confessing to the murder of Eric Murphy."

"Really?" asked Peter, his eyebrows raised in surprised interest.

"Who confessed?" cried Abby. "Who?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't know, Ma'am," shrugged the desk sergeant. "You folks go down that hall and turn right. Just follow the light and the smell of stale coffee."

"Thank you," smiled Peter, escorting Abby and her family down the hall.

In a medium sized room with dividers and desks, they found four homicide detectives bent over a computer monitor, while another was returning with a cup of coffee.

"Detective Freemont?" asked John, stepping toward the man with the coffee. "This is Peter Goldwyn, my son-in-law's attorney."

"I was just trying to get hold of you, Mr. Johannes," replied the detective, "but your wife informed me that you were already on your way down here."

"The desk sergeant said you might have a new suspect?" inquired Peter.

"That's correct," smiled Detective Freemont, rubbing his head with a small sigh of contentment. "That's what I wanted to call Mr. Johannes and his daughter about. Mrs. Murphy," he said, turning to Abby, "we just received a call from the Syracuse PD [police department]. About an hour ago, they took a pregnant woman into custody for selling cocaine to an undercover cop. When they searched her purse, the police found a bloody survival knife wrapped in newspaper." At this, the other detectives gathered around Detective Freemont, as he finished relating the story.

"When confronted with the knife, the woman confessed to killing Eric Murphy-- who it turns out was her boyfriend of two years. According to her, he had denied any responsibility for her unborn child. She followed Mr. Murphy to Three Mile Bay and took her chance at revenge when he was alone on the shore of Oneida Lake. By the blunt force it took to drive that knife into Mr. Murphy, I'd say his ex-girlfriend was more than a little upset."

"Then, all charges against my client are being dropped?" asked Peter.

"Yes, Sir," smiled Detective Freemont. "Jake will be released, tomorrow morning."

"Thank God!" cried Abby, shutting her eyes and silently offering the Lord a prayer of gratitude.

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